The Saga of Crimson Night: Life in the Shadows
by TheCrimsonNight
Summary: Crimson was perfectly normal until the fire. It changed everything, made her immortal.  Message me if you like or want your character to be added into this story!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

Smoke filled my lungs, making me cough and jerk awake. The bed underneath me creaked as I jumped up, the flames trying to swallow my body as I ran toward my bedroom door. The usually cold floor was hot from the flames, covered in ashes in some places while it was collapsed in others. I carefully stepped as the door fell inside the room toward me, the force making the fiery wood start to collapse underneath me.

I screamed, my voice hoarse from the smoke rubbing the inside of my throat raw. I tried to run across the room, but tripped on a large burning coal. It singed my foot and I fell into the fire hole that would be my kitchen ceiling, landing on the table. It almost collapsed under my weight, but thankfully it didn't.

The kitchen door! There was the starry night sky right out there, which meant fresh air! I rushed across the ashy and fiery floor, trying to touch it as little as possible. I pushed the door but it wouldn't budge, sticking to the paint. I ran into it, pushing it with my shoulder. It fell outward, taking me with it. I breathed in the night air, coughing like mad. I ran to the front of the yard, looking for my mother. Father was out on business so I knew he wouldn't be here for a while.

The barn was up in smoke along with all of the crops, flames completely engulfing our small log house. We had just moved here a year ago and now everything was ruined. I fell onto the grass, slipping into the darkness.

I woke up to someone shaking me, shouting at me loudly. I opened my eyes slowly, although everything was blurry and the sun was bright. Once my vision cleared, I realized my father was shaking me. And he was furious.

"Where's your mother?" he shouted, his fingers digging painfully into my shoulders. I was smaller than him, being I was only fourteen and he was a grown man. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," I whimpered, tears rolling down my soot covered cheeks. He stopped kneeling beside me, yanking me to my feet by my arm. I cried out, the tears streaming down my face from the pain now. I couldn't see much as he shouted at me again.

"You lost her! You let her die in the fire! Do you realize what you've done?" He slung a dozen curse words at me, most of them I had never heard before. I was about to tell him I tried to find her, that she didn't come out of the house. Then he slapped my across the face, his hand covered in soot as I fell backward.

"It should have been you!" He shouted, watching a small trickle of blood run from the corner of my mouth...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

It had been a year before my mother's death and my father was out drinking away his sorrows at the tavern. I was making sure our small house was spotless, just in case he came back with friends. If it was not, he would lock me in my room and beat me after they left. My room was often spotted in blood; stains that Father said reminded me of what I did to Mother. I often lay in my bed, crying in the pain that he caused me and the pain that I felt about that night. The nightmares were horrible.

As I was about to sit down to eat at the new kitchen table, Father walked in the door. His eyes were red from crying, the amount of alcohol he had consumed, also from anger now that he stepped inside. He carried a bottle of whiskey in his hand, stumbling drunkenly forward as he ran a hand through his graying hair. He then slammed his fist down in front of me and I jumped up, terrified.

"What are you doing?" he growled, no longer anything like my father. I backed up toward the fireplace, standing off to the side so I wouldn't back too close to the flames.

"I-I was about to eat," I stuttered, looking at the bread and small bowl of warm soup on the tabletop. He walked stumbled forward, and then punched me in the gut. I doubled over from the pain, refusing to fall down unless he forced me; which he did of course, pulling me down so I landed on my back. He stepped on my ribs so I couldn't move away from him.

"You don't eat with the money I earn!" he slurred, taking a hot coal from the fireplace with the prongs and pressing it to my arm. I screamed, tears rolling down my face as the skin burned off. He then moved it right above my right cheek and I struggled, trying to move as one of his friends walked in. Also drunk, he held my head still with a twisted grin on his face. They pressed the hot coal on my face, leaving it there while I writhed and screamed. They let me go, laughing drunkenly as they tripped into the living room together.

I ran out the front door with my cloak, tears running down my cheeks and putting my through agony. I headed toward town, knowing I could get some kind of medicine there for my burns. The boy that worked at the small corner store was starting to wonder what was happening at our little farm, I only knew that because he gave me concerned glances quite a lot.

I walked into the empty store, finding the herbs used to fight infection and heal small burns. My burn wasn't small, nor was it light. Oh well, it was better than nothing. I picked them both up, taking the small bag of coins I had stolen from my father while he tugged me to the floor out of my dress pocket. I headed to the counter, setting down the money in front of the boy without looking up.

"What happened, Crimson?" he asked softly, stopping me in my tracks before I got to the door. I looked at him, my bleach white hair tucked behind my ear. His black hair shined from the late night moon seeping through the open window, his black eyes pits that were begging me with concern.

"A coal caught my cheek," I lied weakly, forcing my gaze away from his. He looked helpless; although I was sure I looked the same way.

"People have started to notice how your father acts Crimson, he told them you made him possessed," he warned quietly as I almost walked out the door. He caught my good arm before I could go any farther. "They're going to come and take you away."

I looked at him, unbelieving until I saw the fear in his eyes. It was fear for me, for my life. I had no idea what to do, it was impossible for me to just run away. I have no food or water, very little money. The closest town was almost forty miles away.

So I ran down the street, going home anyway. Father may decide that the lies he had told everyone were horrible, that they would sentence me to death. Maybe he would stop them.

Or maybe I would get a splash of reality...


	3. Chapter 3 and 4

Chapter Three:

The next thing I remember is lying on the cold stone floor of a jail cell, groggy and extremely sore. There were people outside and the sound of woodwork, creating what looked like a giant stake with a pile of wood. They were going to burn someone.

They were going to burn me!

I stood as quickly as I could, although I was extremely sore, going to the bars and trying to find a way out. It was most likely one or two in the morning, they would burn me at dawn. My cheek and arm were starting to get infected, being I had no time to spread on the medication. I started to quietly cry, my knees pulled up to my chest on the bale of hay that had been spread in a corner. I laid forehead on my knees, listening to my whimpering cries echo faintly off the walls.

I heard the creak of the wooden door as it swung on its fragile hinges then very light footsteps coming closer to me, I looked up slowly. A pair of gleaming back shoes were in front of the metal bars, a solid pair of pants hanging from his body. His skin was as white as his shirt, his hair golden and pulled back with a black ribbon. His eyes, crystal blue, caught me in their gaze and refused to release. He reached his hand out to me, his white slender fingers inviting me to join him.

I stood and took his hand, not knowing who he was or where he came from, just in need of help. He was the helping hand that I needed ever since Father had blamed me for Mother's death, since he became so abusive. He picked me up, seeing how weak and how much pain I was in. He started running, everything rushing by in a blur. The wind was cold against me, I buried my face in his shirt, closing my eyes and slipping back into the darkness of my mind...

Chapter Four:

I woke my vision blurry as I tried to gather my senses. I saw that I was in a large room and now in a soft bed, a man with raven black hair sitting against the far wall. He looked like he was worried, watching me with dark eyes. I curled up more in the bed, only to realize that the blond haired man was sitting next to me. He stroked my cheek with his finger gently, the one that wasn't burnt to a crisp.

I looked between the two of them, suddenly worried myself. I barely managed to ask who he was, much less see what he really was. He chuckled, bringing himself closer to me.

"My name is Lestat," he told me softly, gently running his hand through my long hair. I leaned my head against his chest softly, closing my eyes. I felt completely relaxed around him, a thought hanging in the back of my mind that warned me to run, that I completely ignored.

And how I have come to regret it, in some ways to say in the least.

I looked at the black haired man, a bit nervous around him. I decided that ignoring him would be best. "What happened to Father?" I asked, looking up into his crystal eyes. He smiled softly, continuing to stroke my hair in that gentle way.

"He has passed on to Heaven, chéri," he told me softly, a barely noticeable cruel glint in his eyes. "No one will ever hurt you again."

"None but me if you do not get rid of her soon," the man grumbled, tapping his foot impatiently. Lestat looked up at him, the most terrifying look in his eyes that I have ever seen from anyone.

"You are going to scare my daughter," he hissed, his longer teeth showing clearly from the oil lamp and the moonlight shining from the window. I looked up at him softly, confused by what he said. I assumed he would send me to some orphanage, to be rid of me so I wasn't a burden. He nodded when I caught on, and I smiled brightly.

"To be my daughter though, mon chéri, you will have to be like us," he told me gently, whispering in my ear. He pulled me into his lap like most fathers do and I wrapped my arms around his neck, my head leaning on his shoulder.

"Okay, I will," I replied, not understanding what he meant. I wanted a father that didn't beat me or tell me I wasn't allowed to eat or drink, an actual father. He kissed the top of my head gently.

"Good, girl," he whispered against my neck then I gasped, feeling his teeth sink in. The blood and energy left me as he drank my source of life, so I would never see the light of day again.

He saved my life, took it, then gave me a new one...


	4. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

I dropped the almost lifeless body of my victim to the cobblestone alley floor, leaving his body and stepping out into the moonlight. My white hair shown in the moonlight, attracting attention to myself, so I put up the hood of my cloak. I walked halfway down the block, taking the hand of my adopted father, Lestat.

I had been a vampire for a long while now, taking usually a life a night or more. Unlike Lestat, I could drink past the death of my prey without being harmed. I hadn't figured out why it was so, I didn't mention a whisper of this to him.

The other vampire that had been there when I was changed, Stefano, thought I was a mistake. That he should have left me to be burn at the stake, to be burnt to ash at the fault of my horrible father. Lestat acted as if he was a bad uncle, but never scolded him when I was around. He always waited until before I woke or after I went to sleep. Then his roars of rage would fill the house, causing me to almost tremble in fear even though I was in the next room. One particular night still haunts me to this day; Stefano had struck me with the sharp blade of a knife late one night. It could have killed me if it had been any closer to my heart.

I heard the door slam to the house and stomping but quick footsteps across the house, leading straight into my room. It was Lestat, of course, carrying a towel to clean the blood away so I wouldn't bleed to death.

"How are you feeling, mon chéri?" he asked gently, mopping up some of the blood gently. I managed a weak smile, looking up at him. I saw the fury in his eyes, along with some worry for me.

"I am fine," I replied, knowing it wasn't a complete lie. I would be fine soon, especially being I could heal rapidly. He watched my face as I slowly started to go unconscious, his eyes lighting up with worry and panic.

As soon as he thought I was under, he stormed out of my room and headed straight for Stefano, growling like a rapid dog.

"Why did you stab her?" he shouted.

"She got in my way," he replied calmly, apparently sitting down. I watched through my adopted father's mind, seeing his hands grab the arms of the chair and shake it.

"She is just a child! You cannot be that heartless as to stab a young girl!" he growled again, brushing hair from his own face angrily. I had never seen or felt him this angry.

"You're lucky I didn't kill her," he growled back, pushing Lestat away from him. They then wrestled for the longest time, shouting back and forth, clawing and biting each other. I slipped from Lestat's mind and he came in, picking me up in his arms and bringing me from my room. We slipped into the early morning, just before dawn, hopefully to get out of the light before we both turned to ash.


End file.
